Coming Up Roses' verse Ch 1 Special Today
by earth-dragon-1
Summary: It was supposed to be just a quick trip to the book store.


It was supposed to be just a quick trip to The Second Hand book store and nothing else. Dean needed an additional book for one of his classes and Cas wanted to get the sequel to the fantasy novel he had been eagerly devouring. Mostly, Dean and Cas just wanted to spend the day together, browsing the shelves, maybe grabbing a hot cup of coffee and a quiet corner somewhere.

But then they had passed the flower vendor.

"Special today!" The man with the heavy Italian accent had cried. "Special today!" He had spied Dean and Cas walking, their arms cozily linked, he smiled and pointed. "One dozen beautiful roses for your beautiful love!" he offered.

Dean had huffed, rolled his eyes, and issued a quiet "No thanks". They kept on walking. But Cas saw the way Dean's head turned back to look over his shoulder ever so slightly, ever so wistfully.

Dean rarely allowed himself any kind of indulgence. His family had been very poor as a child, and Dean was often forced to go without the things he needed, let alone the things he wanted. As a result, Dean was incredibly careful with money and spending. Today, despite the fact that he and Cas lived perfectly comfortably, Dean would spend only what he needed for the required used book, and maybe a small, plain coffee.

If Dean had thought Cas wanted the flowers, he would have purchased them in a heartbeat. As far as Dean was concerned, nothing was too good for Cas. But Castiel knew he would never get them for himself.

Cas squeezed Dean's arm as he held the book store door open for him. But then suddenly he gasped and grabbed at his back pocket. "No. Oh no!"

"What?" Dean's brows furrowed and he turned to Cas immediately.

"I forgot my wallet."

"What?"

Cas groaned. "I forgot my wallet. I left it at home. It's still on the nightstand."

Dean let out a relieved breath. "Well, that's not a big deal. You just wanted the one book, right? I can get that."

Cas fought the urge to smile. Of course. Dean wouldn't hesitate to do such a thing for him. Dean would give him the world gift wrapped with a bow if he thought that was what Cas wanted.

"But my punch card in is my wallet. I only need three more punches in it and I can get a free book here. You know that," Cas argued, making up an excuse.

"You can't let that go just this once?" Dean asked, disappointment creeping into his green eyes.

Cas leaned forward and grabbed a quick kiss. Dean wouldn't be disappointed for long. "I'll only be a few minutes; I swear. I'll run. Go ahead and get your book, and I'll meet you over at that little coffee place on 5th and Main, okay?"

"Alright," Dean reluctantly agreed.

Cas dashed out the door. He hated to see Dean's disappointment, but he knew it wouldn't last. Dean wouldn't dally in the bookstore without him. He was utilitarian by nature, and he would simply pick up his book and go to the coffee shop to wait as he had been asked. And Cas' task would really only take him a few minutes, but he knew he needed to time it correctly.

He ran back across the street and crossed at the light, taking care to make sure Dean hadn't seen him from the store, then he walked back to the flower vendor.

The little Italian man spied him right away and smiled broadly. "Ah, you! I knew you would be back!"

Cas approached him and he couldn't help smiling himself. "How did you know?"

"My wife."

"Huh?"

"My wife," the older man answered, and his smile turned just a little sad. Sometimes she would turn around to look at pretty flowers. She thought I didn't see, but I saw. I didn't always have the money to go back and get them for her, so sometimes, eh, it made me feel bad. But sometimes, oh sometimes I surprised her later with big, beautiful blooms."

"So you knew I'd be back?"

"I knew." The man grinned. "I could see. I could see you love your man like I loved my wife. I knew you'd come back."

Cas caught the man's shift in tense and he drew a deep breath. Cas was nothing if not a soft heart, and the man seemed to need to talk. "What kinds of flowers did you get for your wife?"

The old Italian smiled wide. "Oh, my Lydia, she loved the roses. Had cheeks like the rose, so most of the time I call her Rosie. Can't go wrong with those, son. That what you want for your young man?"

"Yes please," Cas answered. "I believe you said there was a special today."

"I did! I did!" The man bustled about to gather up the biggest and heartiest roses he could find from his cart. "You need big, red roses for your love. You surprise him with these, yes?"

"That's the plan." Cas paid for the flowers, making sure to leave a nice tip for the gentleman, who fussed but bowed to him to show his thanks.

"Thank you," Cas told him. "I do think Dean will love these. He rarely allows himself to indulge in anything, and he deserves these."

"Your young man is called Dean?"

"Yes."

"Ah, that's a good name. Strong name. Like my Lydia. My Rosie."

"I think..." Cas looked down at the flowers in his arms, and he thought about the old man and the glimpse of his life he had shared with him during their transaction. It was heartwarming to know there were people in the world who truly did appreciate others, who showed such kindness and caring. Cas liked to think that maybe, someday, his and Dean's story could inspire others in such a way. "I think you and I have been very lucky, haven't we? Not everyone gets a Rosie or a Dean of their own."

The old man looked him straight in the eyes, and nodded his head once wisely. "No, they don't. You and me? We got to be some of the luckiest people out there!"

Cas crossed at the light to Fifth Street and a smile immediately bloomed over his face. Dean was sitting outside, his back to the traffic, nursing a small, plain black coffee and flipping idly through his book.

It was perfect. He would never see Cas coming from that angle.

For a moment, Cas just stood there looking, watching. His Dean was rather rough around the edges. His clothes were a little worse for wear because he refused to throw anything out until it was on its last leg; his jaw was stubbled and his hands callused from working in garages to pay his way through school. Dean could be hard-nosed, stubborn, and resistant to change. But he was without a doubt the most loyal and hard working man Castiel had ever known. Dean was the most generous, the most kind-hearted person. He would do anything to make sure those he loved would never have to go without because he knew what that was like, and he never wanted anyone else to have to suffer in such a way.

Dean was a tough nut to crack; it took a great deal of time and patience before Cas was able to penetrate the walls he had built up around himself. But once Cas had, he had learned the most beautiful truth: that Dean loved with his whole, magnificent heart. No reservations.

Yeah, he was definitely lucky.

Slowly, quietly, Cas walked up behind Dean, and without a word he simply placed the bouquet of roses across the book in Dean's lap.

Dean jerked in surprise and looked up.

Cas smiled and touched his finger to the rose of Dean's cheek, gently stroking the skin there. "Rosie" He whispered, thinking briefly of the Italian man and his beloved wife.

Dean narrowed his eyes, clearly confused. "What?"

Cas laughed. "Nothing. Hello Dean."


End file.
